chRONicles: Lunch Lessons
by Samurai Crunchbird
Summary: The first of, I hope, many 'ch.RON.icles'...independent short stories featuring Ron's everyday adventures before he started going on missions with 'you know who'. Here, Ron learns...and teaches...a lesson in lunchroom etiquette! ...Complete...


_**My standard KP disclaimer:**_

I know Disney owns "Kim Possible"...lock, stock, and Rufus.

If they want to sue me, they have to get behind all my other creditors.

Since I am in south Florida, the line has formed to the right

…and goes all the way to Sacramento!

_**HOWEVER**__, William D. Finney, Gerald Stockton, Carmen Miller,_

'_Viva Potato Bites®', 'Middle Squared', and 'M Cubed'_

_**ALL**__ belong to me...Thad Marster, The Samurai Crunchbird._

_I will defend the rights to these...with my heart, my honor, my agent (Matthew Shrader), _

_**and**__ The Sword of the Ancient Mystics__® (also mine)__...though not _**_necessarily_**_ in that order!!_

_**-- -- -- -- -- --**_

_**Opening notes:**_

**1)** Well, folks…this is the start of a whole new chapter in my playbook. This is the first of what I plan on being a series of stories called _'ch-__**RON**__-icles'_. These tales will feature Ron Stoppable in many of his everyday adventures before he began joining 'you know who' on her missions.

Do not look for any issues with 'timeline continuity' between stories or 'canon' knowledge from the series. While I may use some characters more than once, none of these tales will necessarily fit together with any other _'ch-__**RON**__-icles'_ in the series.

**2)** I have just received word that one of my 'Episode Kickers' contributions, the one I wrote for 'Rappin Drakken', has been posted under the **_KPWG_** username. A 'kicker' is a short 'half-screen' vignette displayed while the episode's ending credits are shown underneath. They were used in the actual series for Season 4.

The 'Episode Kickers' project allows us to create 'kickers' for episodes which ran in Seasons 1-3. It is a collaboration of some of the finest writers in the 'KP Universe'. Just how _**I**_ managed to 'make the cut' is **_still_** a mystery to me!

Again, look for it under the **_KPWG_** username. The first "Kickers' chapter is an explanatory posting. My 'kicker' for 'Rappin Drakken' is Kicker Number 12 (Chapter 13). Please enjoy the creativity of all these fine writers in the 12 kickers to date...**_Once you are done here, OK?_**

**Enjoy the show!**

_**-- -- -- -- -- --**_

'_ch-__**RON**__-icles:__** Lunch Lessons'**_

""""""""""

…_For Gunther Steinhauer…_

""""""""""

As the mid-December winds caused massive snow drifts outside, warmth and joy began to spread throughout the inside of Middleton Middle School, affectionately known as 'Middle Squared'. The rumor mill had it on good authority that the principal ordered a special treat for the students. If the gossip was true, it would truly be a great first day of Hanukkah for one student in particular…

**_...Ron Stoppable._**

That first semester of seventh grade was a little depressing for the young lad. Because the teachers always seemed to go with the tried-and-true 'alphabetical' method of selection, he usually got stuck with Gerald Stockton as a lab partner, teammate for gym, and virtually any other group assignment.

Gerald wasn't necessarily a bad student…or a bad person, for that matter. It's just that Ron was used to being paired with a certain grade-saving over-achiever with braces and flaming red hair. She wasn't even assigned to the same lunch period as he was this semester. Still, she had a place in his heart which grew with every passing day—and Gerald's classroom abilities just couldn't compare to hers…not by a long shot!

Because of their constantly being forced together, Ron and Gerald formed a loose friendship. It was one which would soon be no longer necessary, as their second-semester schedules took them in different directions. Ron especially looked forward to that change, as his lunch schedule would coincide once again with his long-time compadre' with the auburn locks.

Since he and Gerald were part of the last lunch group, he heard the stunning announcement while he was still in his fourth-period 'Math' class…

…The rumors were actually _**true!**_ Instead of the usual steaming pile of 'Friday Mystery Meat', the principal ordered cheese-and-chili chimeritos and 'Viva Potato Bites®' from Bueno Nacho to celebrate the upcoming holiday break!

Ron's mind was gone from that moment onward. As visions of cheesy bliss danced through his head, he completely ignored the teacher as she droned on and on about spheres, cubes, and cones. She might as well have been talking about dodecahedrons and space-time coordinates for all he cared…he wanted his Bueno Nacho—_**badly!**_

Ron and Gerald sat at their regular table and stared in wonder at the food before them, along with their usual nutritional 'milkshake'. Ron was so moved when he finally got his food, he forgot to grab his 'flat-pack', a set of plastic flatware pre-wrapped in a napkin and sealed in a plastic pouch. He normally used the spoon to stir the carob chips he brought from home into the shake.

He said, "Watch my food, Gerald. I'll be right back."

While Ron was grabbing a 'flat-pack' and a straw, Gerald looked around to see if he was being watched by Mr. Finney, the lunchroom monitor, English teacher, wrestling coach, and no-nonsense disciplinarian of 'Middle Squared'. Seeing no sign of the man, Gerald decided to make his move…

…With 'flat-pack' and straw in hand, Ron strode back toward the table and chirped, "Nothing can spoil my day now…Just a few hours from Winter Break, and I get to enjoy my chimerito and those bon-diggety 'Viva Pota—'."

Ron froze in place at the sight in front of him. His tray was still in its original position, with the chimerito and shake neatly in their places on the tray. He knew right away that something was out of place here. The potato crumbs on Gerald's shirt confirmed his suspicions.

At first, Ron was calm about the whole situation. He turned to Gerald and said, "Congratulations on being blessed this season."

Gerald knew he was caught. This made Ron's words all the more confusing. His face grew puzzled as he responded, "Blessed?? Thanks…I guess. What makes you think I have been blessed?"

With a chill in his voice that rivaled the howling winds just outside the building, he replied, "Because you have just earned enough coal from Santa to heat your house for the entire _**winter!**_ I mean, this...**_this_** is a new low…**_even_** for you!!"

Gerald yammered, "I-I'm sorry, man. I didn't think it was—"

"**_That's_** your damage, dude." Ron snapped, "You _**didn't**_ think…you just _**did**_ it!"

Mr. Finney finally chose this time to make his appearance. He usually kept his menacing frame out of mere conversations. Judging by the look on Ron's face, however, it was just about time to step in and prevent things from escalating further.

"_**Mr. Stoppable! Mr. Stockton!**_" his voice boomed. "Is there an issue here we need to address after school?"

Ron chose his words carefully. It was bad enough he lost his 'Viva Potato Bites®' to Gerald. He didn't want to lose his Winter Break thanks to detention, and the subsequent grounding he would receive once he got home from said detention.

With as confident a smile as he could muster under the circumstances, Ron weakly laughed and said, "Heh-heh…There's no problem here, Mr. Finney…sir."

"_**Riiight!**_" the man grumbled. "You kids think you're the _**only**_ ones who enjoy a break from this place now and then?"

He focused his attention squarely on Gerald and continued, "If I have to assign detention and stay here to make sure you serve it, I will be late for my flight to visit my folks for the holidays."

His stare toward Gerald grew colder as he concluded, "This year may be the last chance I get to see my dear old Grandma Finney before she goes to 'that big wrestling ring in the sky' and starts putting Moses and Saint Peter into a head-lock. Missing that flight would make me angry…_**very **__angry!_ _**Have I made myself CLEAR???**_"

Gerald quickly responded, "Definitely clear, sir."

"Crystal." Ron chimed in.

Mr. Finney turned and left the two former friends, projecting confidence and the feeling of accomplishment in restoring order. Only after his back was to them did the man express his sadness. He quietly took a piece of paper out his pocket and wrote a short message on it.

As the students filed out of the lunchroom to go to their next class, he gave Ron a gentle pat on the back. It was a simple gesture, but one which gave Ron a bit of a startle. The boy was so stunned by the act of kindness, he was nearly late for class.

""""""""""

Ron was still a little puzzled by the teacher's actions as he entered his last class of the day—creative writing, with the object of his confusion at the front of the room.

'_Why is he being nice all of a sudden?'_ Ron thought to himself. _'Is it the holidays? Does he really miss his grandma that much? Is he just setting me up for something worse?'_

Before Ron could continue his downward spiral in to paranoia, his attention was re-focused on Mr. Finney's bombastic voice.

"Your assignment over the break," he announced, "is to take a well-known proverb or saying and describe about how it applies to your own life."

After hearing the groans from the class, he raised a hand for quiet and explained, "I realize the inconvenience of studying over the holidays. However, we will be returning from the break with only two weeks before the semester 'finals'. We still have a lot of ground to cover in that short time."

He passed papers back to the students as he said, "Here's your graded homework from last week. This class seems to have a firm grasp on the subject matter—with two notable exceptions, of course."

With that statement, he looked directly at Ron and Gerald.

Ron looked at his paper, which included the customary 'C-' grade. What drew his attention was the note attached to it:

'_Mr. Stoppable,_

_See me after class._

_I promise...you are not in trouble._

_I just need to talk to you about what happened in the lunchroom today._

_It will only take a moment, as I am __quite__ serious about catching that flight.'_

The bell soon rang and Mr. Finney growled, "Be safe out there during the break. You know how much I hate filling out the paperwork required to send your assignments home to you if you're sick."

Most of the students understood the dry humor in his words and laughed as they left the classroom. Remembering the earlier note, Ron stayed behind. He let out an audible gulp once Mr. Finney closed the door.

"Mr. Stoppable," the man commanded, motioning to a desk in the front row, "have a seat."

Ron quickly sat at the desk Mr. Finney indicated. The freckled boy began to shiver a little bit. This was partially due to the heater's automatic 'shut-off' timer. Most of the reason was due to Mr. Finney's face showing a look of...genuine _**concern??**_

The teacher began, "I saw what Mr. Stockton did today. When are you going to stand up for yourself, Mr. Stoppable? I would have **_loved_** to have 'thrown the book at him', as it were. Yet according to that book, or at least the school handbook, I can't do anything to him unless you open your mouth and _**say**_ something about it!"

His face formed a genuine grin as he reflected, "I remember that 'Naco' invention of yours a while back. _**You**_, of all people, should have been able to fully enjoy the benefits of this 'Bueno Nacho Treat Day'."

With a deep sigh, he added, "Mr. Stoppable, I've seen what you can do when you maintain focus on your task. You may think we teachers are always nagging and harassing you to 'buckle down' and 'apply yourself', among other over-used educational clichés."

This drew a small chuckle from Ron as Mr. Finney continued.

"It's true that teachers at some schools don't care about their students. Still, I personally believe we at Middleton Middle really want you and your classmates to _**learn**_ something while you inhabit these walls and darken these halls. Under the Constitution, your education is not a privilege, but a **_right!_** I'd like to think I push you hard so you can exercise that right to its fullest extent."

Mr. Finney looked Ron in the eyes while he prolonged his soliloquy.

"Of course, a solid education is not the only right for which you must stand up and be heard. If someone pulls a stunt like Mr. Stockton did today, _**tell**_ us! Don't rely on that 'imaginary friend' Rufus to bail you out of trouble anymore."

Mr. Finney placed a hand on Ron's shoulder and asked, "You recently had your Bar Mitzvah, didn't you?"

Ron could only nod in stunned silence as the draconian-dictator-turned-caring-soul questioned him.

"In the Jewish faith, doesn't that make you a _**man**_ now?"

Ron nodded once more as Mr. Finney rose and opened the classroom door

"Well, then." the man bellowed as his usual gruff exterior returned, "It's high time you got some backbone and started _**ACTING**_ like one! Now get out of here. I still have to catch that flight, you know."

Just before Ron made it through the doorway, Mr. Finney barked, "There's just one other thing, Mr. Stoppable."

This made Ron freeze in his tracks and slowly turn his head back to the teacher.

With a gentle smile, the man said, "Happy holidays."

""""""""""

The next two weeks flew quickly for Ron. After he watched the 'Snowman Hank' special with his red-haired best friend of nearly nine years, he brought up the trouble with Gerald and the 'Viva Potato Bites®'.

She offered some advice, along with some of her mother's famous chocolate sandwich cookies. Her words nearly matched those of Mr. Finney—but with one glaring difference. She agreed with Mr. Finney's statement that Ron needed to stand up for himself. However, she expanded on that thought, suggesting Ron defend himself and fight back against those who seek to hurt him.

Just before he left his friend's house for the evening, he turned to her mother and stated, "I _**really**_ loved those chocolate cookies you made. They taste just like those store-bought cookies in the blue plastic bags. Could I take some home in one of those plastic zipper bags?"

The mother quickly obliged. She considered Ron as another son, even going to the extent of bundling him in his scarf and kissing his forehead before he left for home.

""""""""""

A few days later, Ron relaxed on the couch and finished the last of the chocolate cookies as he watched another episode in the 'New Year's Eve Ferret-a-thon'. This 'Fearless Ferret' installment featured a cold-weather villain named 'The Frostbiter'. The banter between hero and villain seemed to pique Ron's interest more than usual.

While the credits rolled at the end the episode, Ron's father called out, "Son, could you put some rock salt on the sidewalk and the driveway? Your mother should be home any time now, and I don't want her slipping on any ice patches out there."

"Sure thing, Dad." Ron chirped as he put on his coat to go outside and take care of the matter.

Ron poured some of the rock salt from the fifty-pound sprinkled the rock salt over the entire driveway, sidewalk and front steps. He was careful not to put too much salt on one particular area, as it would have caused conditions to be more slippery than the ice it was supposed to melt.

Once he was finished, he noticed the mail truck completing its rounds. _'Saving Dad a trip outside by bringing in the mail may score a couple of extra points with the man.'_ Ron thought.

Among the usual bills and letters was the January edition of 'Middle Cubed: the Middleton Middle Monthly'. It was the monthly newsletter from the school. Since the address read, 'The Stoppable Household', Ron decided it was okay to check out the lunch menu for the upcoming weeks. This way, he knew when to eat what they served and when to 'brown bag' it.

As he examined the menu, a diabolically wicked smile drew itself upon the face of Ron Stoppable…

""""""""""

…On the first day back from the holiday break, the halls of 'Middle Squared' were buzzing with chatter. Most of the conversations dealt with what everybody got for Christmas…or Hanukkah…or Kwanzaa…or, for those _completely_ spoiled rotten, all of the above!

Ron was no exception, as he modeled the new cargo pants he received as one of his Hanukkah gifts. That is, he _did_ model them until he leaned the wrong way and jostled the cowboy-style buckle of his new belt. The buckle sprung loose, causing the pants to fall around his ankles…_**again!**_ Even with that embarrassment, Ron was grateful nobody noticed the zippered plastic bag in one of his pockets…

""""""""""

Once the morning announcements were read and the students were dismissed to go to their 'first-period' classes, Ron approached Mr. Finney in front of his classroom doorway.

"Mr. Finney," Ron asked, "for my assignment later today, it is okay if I include video footage to further prove my point?"

"Well, Mr. Stoppable," Mr. Finney pondered, "since the course is '_**creative**_ writing', I guess you could add some creativity…as long as I still receive the writing portion."

Ron smiled and said, "Thanks, Mr. Finney. I'm just on my way to 'Study Hall' to wrap it up now. See you at lunch."

After the blond boy disappeared down the hallway, Mr. Finney chuckled to himself, "…'Wrap it up', huh? Ten bucks says he hasn't even _**started**_ yet!"

""""""""""

Fortunately for Ron, the 'audio/visual equipment' room was right next to his third period 'Study Hall' classroom. Ron took the available time to visit one of his few other true friends at 'Middle Squared'. While this nine-year-old boy appeared to be out of place among the general student population, he indeed was 'fully-credentialed' and working on his first Master's degree in Electronic Technology.

'Wade-man," Ron beamed, "what's the smallest camera you have that can use a standard videotape?"

Wade pulled what appeared to be a plastic videotape case out from under the counter and placed it in front of Ron.

Ron shook his head and said, "Wade, my friend, you have been stuck in here way too long! It's just a tape case. I asked about a camera."

"Not everything is as it appears, Ron." Wade countered. He pointed one end of the case toward Ron and extended three telescopic legs from the bottom of the case. It formed a tripod standing two feet tall.

From the other end of the case, Wade extended a small antenna before flipping on a nearby switch. The switch powered up a monitor which displayed Ron's amazed look as he stared at the camera. Wade turned the case back and forth, with the changing image displayed on the screen.

After a few seconds, Wade pressed a button on the side of the case, which caused a standard-sized videotape to eject. He placed the tape into a player and played the footage he just recorded.

"Wade," Ron smiled, "once again, you rock!"

As he folded the telescopic legs and antenna, Wade smiled and said, "I do what I can."

It only took a few seconds for Wade to show Ron the controls. They were easy enough, with one button for recording, one for playback, a fast-forward button, a rewind button, a pause button, and a stop/eject button. The buttons were all lined up along the side of the camera/case.

Ron took a blank tape out of his backpack, labeled the tape with a small message, and placed it in the camera/case.

""""""""""

If Mr. Finney had seen Ron's furious flurry of flying fingers with his fine-point felt-tip pen, he would have probably collected on that bet. Ron had indeed not yet started on the writing portion of the assignment. The 'Study Hall' monitor was shocked to see the personification of 'slacker' so busy on anything school-related. Still, Ron managed to churn out the entire three-page write-up before the dismissal bell.

""""""""""

Ron and Gerald left their fourth-period 'Math' class and made a bee-line for the lunchroom. After all, maintaining a 'gentleman's C' average can build up quite an appetite.

The food trays were prepared and placed under heat lamps in an 'assembly-line' fashion. All each student had to do was grab the 'flat-pack', a straw, and maybe a few extra napkins before taking the tray and milkshake to the cashier for payment.

Gerald placed his tray on the table. After Ron did the same, he placed the 'tape case' camera near them and pressed the 'record' button.

Not realizing Ron touched any button on what looked like a videotape case, Gerald pointed to the black box and asked, "What's that for?"

"Oh," Ron truthfully answered with a grin, "It's got a tape I plan on giving Mr. Finney ahead of my assignment this afternoon."

Gerald gave Ron a suspicious look and said, "Okaaaay." While Gerald was staring at the black box, Ron removed Gerald's 'flat-pack'. With one fluid motion, he placed it on the floor and kicked it across the lunchroom before Gerald could notice what he did.

Ron took a sip of his soup and licked his lips. He looked over at Gerald and inquired, "Have you tasted your soup yet? This is good stuff today."

Gerald reached for where he normally would have his spoon as he replied, "No, not ye—hey! What happened to my 'flat-pack'?"

"Dude," Ron scolded Gerald, "how could you forget to grab your grub gear?"

Gerald stood and asked Ron, "Could you watch my tray, man? I'll be right back."

Ron knew Mr. Finney wouldn't let anybody cut in line, even if it was just to get a 'flat-pack'. This gave Ron enough time to set up the camera for a better angle and remove the zippered plastic bag from the pocket of his cargo pants. He carefully poured half of the bag's contents of rock salt into Gerald's shake. With a flourish, he stirred the shake and tapped the remaining residue from his spoon back into the cup. This made it easier to wipe off the spoon with a small portion of his extra napkin before he enjoyed the rest of his own soup.

By the time Gerald returned to the table, he noticed a heavenly vision of brunette loveliness he didn't recognize earlier.

He pointed her out to Ron and said, "Hey, dude. Check out the babe. When did _**she**_ roll into town?"

Surprised, Ron responded, "Are you serious? That's Carmen Miller. Remember her? She was with her mother in Upperton for the last six months. Now that she's with her dad for the other six months, she's back here at 'Middle Squared'."

"_**That's**_ 'Four Eyes' Carmen, the class shrimp?" Gerald gasped. "Holy Moses, she's grown—in more ways than one, I might add."

Before Ron could respond to his lunch-mate's lecherous last line, Gerald raised his milkshake cup.

"Hey, Carmen," he called out to the girl, "check _**this**_ out!"

Gerald took a huge swig of the milkshake before he noticed something was off about its taste. Instead of the usual vanilla flavor, it tasted…downright _**gross!!**_

As quickly as Gerald chugged it, he spewed it back out across the table. Ron was lucky it was in a different direction from his own food and the camera.

Mr. Finney heard the commotion and rushed over to the scene of the incident.

"_**Mr. Stockton!**_" Mr. Finney demanded. "What is the _**meaning**_ of this?"

Gerald's complexion was paler than usual as he responded, "I dunno, Mr. Finney. Something's wrong with this shake."

Ron dipped his spoon into his own shake and offered it to the teacher. "It seems okay to me, sir."

Mr. Finney tasted the shake from Ron's spoon and observed, "It tastes fine to me as well. Maybe you should get another cup while I get some paper towels for you to clean up this mess."

Thankfully, nearly everybody had finished getting their lunches. This made the line rather short. It didn't take long for Gerald to get his second shake. By the time he returned to the table, Mr. Finney was ready to hand him a roll of paper towels.

The teacher carefully watched as Gerald wiped up every drop of milkshake form the table, the adjacent table, the wall, and the floor. This gave Ron more than enough time to stir the rest of the rock salt from the plastic bag into the fresh milkshake before he began consuming his sandwich.

Gerald returned to the table and sighed, "Thanks for watching my tray, Ron."

Ron smiled and said, "It was nothing, man. Really, it was no problem at all. Maybe you could talk to Carmen after lunch."

"You think so?" Gerald asked with hope in his eyes.

A sly grin grossed Ron's lips as he responded, "You never know what can happen in the span of a moment."

Gerald smiled, raised his milkshake cup and agreed, "You're right. Here's to Carmen."

Ron raised his cup to touch Gerald's cup and chimed, "To _karma_."

Gerald failed to notice the slight variation of Ron's words as he downed nearly half the shake. Instantly, the horrible taste from earlier returned to his mouth. It was a matter of basic science, as the larger amount of shake consumed caused a larger amount to return forth from Gerald's mouth. This time, Ron had to quickly lift his tray to avoid the mess, which barely missed the camera.

Mr. Finney was quick to return to the table. "_MR. __**STOCKTON**_," he shouted, "_ONCE_ is an oddity. _**TWICE**_ is _**detention!**_" He motioned to a dry table nearby. "Mr. Stoppable, I suggest you sit here for the rest of the lunch period while Mr. Stockton cleans up this mess! You may also want to grab that tape case before it gets ruined."

Ron eagerly followed Mr. Finney's instructions, placing his tray on the new table and grabbing the case/camera. He quickly folded the case's legs and pressed the 'Stop' button. He then looked up and gazed into the deep brown eyes of Carmen, who was already sitting at his re-assigned table.

Ron opened his mouth to talk to Carmen as the dismissal bell rang. She quickly left the lunchroom ahead of the usual stampede of students. Ron gathered the case/camera and discovered a note left on the table:

'_Ron:_

_I saw what you did to Gerald._

_Knowing you, he really had to do something awful to cause you to pull something like this._

_Call me sometime and tell me about it, OK?_

_Talk to you later,_

_Carmen_

_303-555-7261'_

Ron's grin couldn't be wider as he walked past Mr. Finney and handed him the tape, rewound to the beginning. The teacher looked down and read the message on the label…

'_**Revenge is a dish that is best served COLD!!'**_

Mr. Finney could only smile as he watched Gerald continue to clean up the mess created by Ron's lunch lesson...

_**-- -- -- -- -- --**_

_**Author's ending notes:**_

_I hope you enjoyed this first 'ch-__**RON**__-icle'. My goal is to submit more of these, **once every two weeks.** I know I have been posting every week during the last few months, but my 'buffer' is starting to get a little lean as I look for a second job._

_**Please watch for new 'ch-RON-icles' as they come down the line.**_

The production of this story, like that for any work of fiction, is solely dependent upon the _constructive_ feedback of its readers. If you like it, I will gladly make more. If you think of ways to make it better, I am always open to suggestions. If you really think it's a piece of garbage, stop me before I strike again!! Once again, _**Review me, e-mail me if you wanna reach me! If you want to 'PM' me, that's ok!**_

Your friend in writing,

The Samurai Crunchbird


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